TYRION IN THE CHILLY WHITE In the attire of the Kingsguard,

Ser Mandon Moore looked like a body in a cover. "Her Elegance cleared out orders; the board in session isn't to be disturbed." "I would be, if it were a little unsettling influence, ser." Tyrion slid the parchment from his sleeve. "I bear a letter from my father, Master Tywin Lannister, the Hand of the Lord. There's his seal. " "Her Elegance does not wish to be disturbed," Ser Mandon rehashed slowly, on the off chance that Tyrion was a dullard who had not listened to him the first time. Jaime had once told him that Moore was the most dangerous member of the Kingsguard—except for himself, of course—because his actions gave no indication of what he might do next. Tyrion would have invited a imply. Bronn and Timett seem likely to slaughter the knight on the off chance that it came to swords, but it would scarcely bode well in the event that he started by killing one of Joffrey’s defenders. However, where was his authority if he allowed the man to turn him away? He made himself grin. "Ser Mandon, you have not met my companions. Typically, Timett's children of Timet